Jimmy looked at me. ‘Yoh done save his ass, colonel!’ he chuckled.
‘I owe you big-time, colonel.’ I couldn’t imagine how different my life would have turned out if we’d been taken to Japan and court-martialled.
‘My pleasure, sir,’ Colonel Stone replied, grinning. What a crazy thing the army was. Here he was calling me ‘sir’ when just three weeks previously I would have been standing in front of him to rigid attention, staring at a spot I’d located on the wall behind him and barking out the answers to his questions in monosyllabic bursts. The reminder of the incident in Korea, which seemed to have happened half a lifetime ago, served to relax us all, and it wasn’t hard to see why Colonel Stone had been chosen for this particular job in the army. He placed his cup down on the little table beside his chair and reached for a bulging file bound with red tape, and proceeded to open it.
‘Private Oldcorn, I should begin by saying that I am not from the Immigration Department, and so have no power to decide on your case other than to try to influence those who do. It is also highly unusual for me to be dealing with the records of a soldier from another nation. However, I received a copy of some of the papers in the submission your sponsors sent in on your behalf, particularly the submission by Mr McKenzie, outlining the role you played while you were prisoners of war together in North Korea. I must say it made for interesting reading. May I congratulate you both – the time you spent in captivity can’t have been easy, in particular as you were each carrying a severe wound.’
‘There were worse off than us,’ I answered.
Colonel Stone looked up at me and smiled. ‘Be that as it may, we have checked the details in both submissions and, if anything, both accounts appear to be somewhat understated, which is unusual in a submission like this where sinners are routinely turned into saints.’
‘How yoh check dem records, colonel?’ Jimmy asked, surprised. ‘Wid da US Army?’
‘Yes, exactly. We have many affidavits and letters from fellow US prisoners of war that testify to the role both of you played in the various North Korean and Chinese field hospitals and the POW camp where you were held until the armistice.’
‘I hope they asked the black blokes,’ I interjected.
‘No, as a matter of fact they all seem to be Caucasians.’ Colonel Stone picked up a sheet of paper. ‘This one is from tail gunner Chuck Ward of New York State.’ He began to read. ‘“Rear Gunner Chuck Ward’s B27 was shot down over North Korea. He bailed out and landed in snow-covered mountainous terrain behind enemy lines where he avoided the enemy for two days before finally being captured. He was made to walk a further two days to a field hospital, where his frostbite was so severe the Chinese physician was forced to amputate both feet.” He speaks here of the care he received from Private Richard Oldcorn, commonly known as ‘Jimmy’, of the US 24th Infantry Regiment, US 25th Infantry Division, and Private Jack McKenzie of an unspecified Australian infantry regiment.
“I can positively testify that I owe my life to those two men, Jimmy Oldcorn and his buddy from the Australian Army. They were not orderlies on hospital duty and were both recovering from wounds, but they volunteered to dress my feet and bring me water and they fed me by hand such food as was available. They washed me and demanded a second set of bandages from the Chinese and they washed these daily and dried them in the hut, cleaning and changing my dressings morning and evening. They carried me to the latrine and kept me as clean as possible. I do not doubt for one moment that these good men saved my life. Two brave soldiers who took care of a comrade when they were recovering from injuries themselves.” Signed, Chuck Ward.’
The colonel picked up the next sheet of paper. ‘Here’s another. It’s from a Private Ward Brady Buckworth Junior from Georgia,’ he said.
Oh no! The southerner Jimmy nearly killed in the hospital cave. We’re gone for all money. I held my breath as he started to read.
‘“I owe Jimmy Oldcorn more than my life. In the North Korean hospital cave he taught us to behave like men when we’d been reduced to being animals. He taught us to share when we’d decided it was every man for himself. He made us care for each other when previously we wouldn’t have lifted a hand to help the man beside us. I have no hesitation in saying that without his leadership, together with his little redheaded Australian buddy with the harmonica, many a now happily married family man in America would never have come home. Since returning to America I have found Jesus Christ and I am now a born-again Christian and a Pentecostal Evangelist. If this message ever reaches Jimmy Oldcorn please thank him and tell him he made me take a good look at myself, and what I saw I didn’t much like. I am certain that the deserved hiding he gave me in that cave was the first step in my salvation. I praise the Lord each day for Jimmy Oldcorn. With men like him, America will always be safe. God bless America!” Signed, Ward Brady Buckworth Junior.’
I looked at Jimmy, incredulous. ‘Praise da Lord,’ he said, grinning. As Gloria would say, ‘Miracles will never cease!’ Of all the people unlikely to give Jimmy a rap, I would have placed Ward Brady Buckworth Junior about equal with the Kraus twins at the very start of the queue.
‘There are dozens more like this, and I must say that together they make an outstanding testimonial,’ Colonel Stone said. ‘If it were up to me I’d be proud to welcome you to our country, Private Oldcorn.’ He paused, and looked at us. ‘But it isn’t. All I can do is petition on your behalf with whatever influence the Australian Army may be able to bring to bear. Which, from past experience, I am forced to tell you, isn’t very much.’
He then went on to explain that he’d been with the Australian occupation forces in Japan in 1946 and for the duration of the Korean War. In that time a number of Australian soldiers had taken Japanese brides. ‘It has taken until last year for them to be given permission to bring their wives and, in many cases, children home to Australia,’ he informed us. I immediately thought of Catflap Buggins and his little Lotus Blossom, and wondered if she was one of these war brides. ‘I was involved in making representations for many of these long-separated families,’ Stone said. ‘Even now, the Japanese wives can’t get permanent residency – they are all on five-year Certificates of Exemption.’
‘Exemption from what, Colonel Stone?’ Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan asked.
‘I feel ashamed even saying it, Miss Lenoir-Jourdan. Exemption from the dictation test. The idea is that these women are not actually allowed to become Australian citizens. While they can renew their certificate every five years and – providing they don’t commit a crime or get divorced – can stay in Australia for the rest of their lives, they will always remain citizens of their native country.’ He leaned back as we took it all in. ‘So you see, you’re not the only one in the army to run slap-bang up against the so-called White Australia Policy.’
‘You mean the policy that doesn’t exist?’ Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan stated, with more than a touch of irony.
‘Correct. Discrimination on the grounds of colour or race is not mentioned in immigration law, and the term “White Australia Policy” does not exist as far as Canberra is concerned. Officially, rejection of someone seeking to immigrate is not based on colour or race, it is based entirely on failure to pass the dictation test. Unofficially, immigration officers are under strict verbal orders to give the test to anyone whom they consider is not white.’
I turned to Jimmy. ‘That’s why Cuffe asked you about your ancestry.’ Turning now to Colonel Stone, I added, ‘Jimmy’s an orphan and couldn’t answer the question.’
Instead of smiling, as I suppose I’d anticipated, the colonel said, ‘That might yet prove to be a stroke of luck.’
‘What, Jimmy being an orphan?’
‘Not knowing his background, yes.’
‘The whole thing is so duplicitous,’ exclaimed Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan, indignation getting the better of her.
‘Maintaining the policy requires a high degree of duplicity,’ said Colonel Stone with surprising frankness. ‘For instance,
in a recent newspaper article, Mr Holt, the immigration minister, makes the usual two points the government habitually uses to defend its position. Firstly, that he is convinced Asian people understand our restricted immigration policy – what makes him so convinced he doesn’t explain. Secondly, that the policy is supported by both political parties and by all the classes. It’s true that both political parties agree to the so-called dictation test, but suggesting that the entire Australian population goes along with it as well is pure conjecture. We have never had a referendum to establish how the nation feels.’
I’m sure we all thought Colonel Stone must have been referring to the column that had appeared in the Melbourne Daily News that had so depressed us.
Then Wendy asked the question at the back of everyone’s mind, prefacing it with a smile that possessed enough kilowatts to light up the Melbourne Cricket Ground. ‘Colonel Stone, you said before that it was unusual for you to be asked to act for Jimmy – I mean, a soldier from a different nation. How did that come about?’ It was ingenuously put without any apparent hidden agenda, as perhaps may not have been the case if Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan or myself had pursued this in an attempt to see if Zara Holt or her husband was involved.
Colonel Stone paused to think, scratching his forehead with the tip of his index finger. ‘That’s a question I had to ask myself, and I can only conclude that someone, somewhere, wants something to happen. Either that, or as is much more likely, they want to avoid being embarrassed. You have to understand, at a diplomatic level the government is very defensive on this issue. For instance, you may be wondering how we were able to get all the affidavits and letters on Private Oldcorn so very quickly.’
‘Yes, that had occurred to me,’ I said. ‘Our army doesn’t usually move that fast, and I’m sure that’s also true of the Americans.’
‘Well, it seems the Americans had the material already documented. Many former US prisoners of the Korean War had mentioned the two of you in their debriefing, and others had written to the Pentagon. As you probably know, the Americans didn’t always come out of the Chinese POW camps covered in glory. Someone at the Pentagon must have seen this story as an opportunity for a bit of positive public relations and decided to collate the information. They then discovered more details – in particular how Mr Oldcorn personally risked torture and possibly death by gaining the confidence of the Chinese communists and exposing their web of informers, thereby throwing into chaos their efforts at indoctrination. With a congressional enquiry about to start on why so many Americans defected to the communists while prisoners of war, this is just the sort of good publicity they were looking for.’
‘And then they discovered Jimmy was a Negro!’ I interrupted, ‘So they put the kybosh on the whole thing.’
Colonel Stone laughed. ‘No, that’s quite wrong, sir. Ten days ago the American government announced Private Oldcorn is to get a military decoration from the president.’ He paused, and grinned. ‘That is, when the Australian Government can locate him. The American press has also been looking for him and is becoming very agitated, and Canberra is being bombarded with requests for information on Private Oldcorn’s whereabouts. Finally, the US Army is very anxious to parade him for the purposes of publicity and I guess that’s how the Australian Army got involved.’
We were gobsmacked. I eventually said, ‘But finding him wouldn’t be too difficult.’
‘Not to us, but a small island off the coast of Australia might as well be on the moon as far as an American newspaper reporter is concerned. They may have heard of Australia but they certainly haven’t heard of Tasmania, let alone a dot in the ocean like Queen Island. Private Oldcorn had a Qantas ticket from Japan to Melbourne, but after that he effectively vanished – there are no records of his movements.’
‘And that’s why Jimmy’s visitor’s visa was extended so effortlessly,’ Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan remarked quietly. ‘They didn’t want him to suddenly reappear.’
‘Yes, I think you all get the general idea,’ Colonel Stone said.
Jimmy had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this. ‘A bit of a turn-up for the books, eh, Jimmy? Now you’re a bloody war hero, mate,’ I said laughing, with the others joining in.
‘Dat funny, Brother Fish. First we got dat chump Ward Brady Buckworth Junior, he gone fine Jesus an’ now he for-give me. Now da whole America, dey want to do da same. I ain’t no nigger no more – I’s a war hero. How come a hero he don’t have no skin colour, eh?’
‘I’m afraid that’s not true in Australia, Private Oldcorn. Your skin colour remains the problem while your potential “hero status” in America is a potential embarrassment for our government.’
‘They’re gunna give you a ticker-tape parade down Broadway,’ I laughed.
‘Well, that really put the cat among the pigeons, as you can imagine,’ the colonel said. ‘So the Australian Government instructed the Department of Defence to follow up on the story and I was given the task of writing to the Americans requesting details of Private Oldcorn’s involvement with you.’ He paused, smiling. ‘Now I’m probably drawing a long bow here, but in 1942 the first shipload of American servicemen arrived to be based in Australia and the customs officials wouldn’t allow the Negro soldiers to disembark. This caused both panic and extreme embarrassment because the Australian Government had previously requested that no Negroes be sent. The Americans had officially refused, but in diplomatic circles, as they say, a wink is as good as a nod, and we assumed the matter was settled. So the Australian Government was caught with its pants down when the black soldiers arrived. What I’m trying to say is, could Mr Oldcorn’s application for residency possibly have the makings of another such incident?’ Then he added quickly, ‘This is pure speculation on my part, you understand.’
‘I don’t think so, colonel,’ Jimmy said softly.
Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan smiled. ‘There’s an old Chinese saying, “When you’re defending the indefensible you are a dog barking at shadows.”’
‘Well, whoever would have thought of that!’ I said, leaning back in my chair. ‘Jimmy, you could become a “diplomatic incident”, mate.’
Colonel Stone laughed. ‘If I’m correct, I suspect I’ve been given this job to avoid anything like that happening.’
‘You mean you have to find a way out?’ Wendy asked, hopefully.
‘Suggest. In the final analysis, it’s not up to me.’
‘I’m led to believe the candidature for the dictation test is made on appearance, and there are no exceptions. Is this not the case, Colonel Stone?’ Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan asked.
‘Essentially, you’re right. But appearances can be deceptive, or at least appear to be, on paper.’ He could see we were puzzled. ‘This is the decidedly awkward part, Private Oldcorn. I have been authorised to give you a physical examination.’
‘What for? Yoh want to see I’s med-ic-ally fit? My leg, it healed good.’
‘Jimmy’s fit as a mallee bull. We dive just about every morning,’ I volunteered.
‘Hence the healthy tan. Out in the sunshine a lot, eh?’
It was the way he said it, like he was trying to tell us something.
‘Where you gonna do dis exam-in-nation, colonel?’ Jimmy asked.
‘I thought the Gents, Mr Oldcorn. As I’m not a doctor, I’d like Mr McKenzie to come with me as a witness. It won’t take long, and I don’t mean to embarrass you, but if this wasn’t important I wouldn’t ask.’
‘You say you’re not a doctor, colonel – so why would you conduct a physical examination of James?’ Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan asked. She then added, ‘Is it in your brief?’
‘No, it isn’t. That kind of thing never appears on paper. I received a confidential call from Canberra two nights ago.’
We were all mystified. What kind of physical examination could the colonel make without him being a physician – or at the very least, a qualified medical orderly? Colonel Stone turned to Jimmy. ‘Of course you may refuse, and I wouldn’t blame you
.’ But then he added in a kindly voice, ‘In this case, I think you should trust me.’
‘Sure,’ Jimmy said. ‘I ain’t got nothin’ you ain’t seen before.’
Stone rose and walked ahead of Jimmy and me on his way out to the Gents, which must have been down the hall somewhere because he turned to the left at the door. For a moment I was alone with Jimmy, and sufficiently out of earshot of Wendy and Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan and the military officer. ‘He’s gunna check out your dick, Jimmy – that is, if the bloody thing isn’t worn down to a stub,’ I whispered, in an attempt to lighten the moment.
‘I dunno ’bout dat, Brother Fish. Wendy, she got a nice smile on her face dese days,’ he chuckled. ‘It spell sat-tis-fact-shun.’
Colonel Stone was waiting for us when we entered the toilet. ‘You may be wondering what the hell all this is about. Again, I apologise. But I have to say I’ve been dealing with these problems since 1946, and nothing surprises me any more. Someone in Canberra, probably the foreign minister, wants this matter settled.’ He turned to Jimmy. ‘They’re obviously concerned you will get back to America and tell them what happened in Hobart. On the other hand the Immigration Department can’t make exceptions, even for a war hero. That would create an unfortunate precedent.’ I thought of Nicole Lenoir-Jourdan when she’d pointed out to me that a precedent was a law in itself, and not an emotional exception.
‘The regulation states, “If the applicant’s background and racial history is not available, and if in appearance he is not substantially white, he must be given the dictation test.” The last two words “substantially white” are the key. That’s why I made mention of Private Oldcorn’s excellent suntan. I hope you didn’t take my remark as an insult.’ He paused, then grinned. ‘The caller from the Department of Immigration pointed out to me that the report they’d received from their officer in Hobart referred to Private Oldcorn’s skin colour as “yellow”, suggesting a genetic Negro.’
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